July 23rd. Portland, OR, to Lincoln City, OR . Charlie woke me up the next morning and we had coffee together on his back porch. He was taking a course on Native American law and we talked some about that, about the land use issues and all that. It's big business out there in the Pacific Northwest. Water rights. Land rights. Gaming rights. The big word in the legal field is "sovereignty." What does it mean for a tribe to be a sovereign nation when the reservation is really just a parking lot for natives? 

At Cannon Junction I took the southern fork and headed to Cannon Beach. It's one of the most expensive of the beach towns there, because it's on the bee line from Portland. The beach is at the bottom of a gentle bluff where the houses sit in amongst evergreen trees. You know you have made it to the Pacific immediately because the temperature drops almost twenty degrees and the energy of fear and awe is present. 

The clouds and the slow drizzle had settled in over the coast and there was no escaping that. I rode the remainder of the way to Lincoln City buoyed by the prospect of warm food, warm shower, warm room, warming drink. Lincoln City is a fair-sized beach city, lots of hotels strung up and down the bluffs overlooking a beautiful wide beach. Coming into town from the north you can't really see all that. You just see the commercial strip of the 101, hotels, motels, restaurants, and bars. 

That was the end of my earthly conversation with the Skipper. I let it go. There were too many whispers in it for me that I did not want to hear at that moment and I told myself if I asked any questions then I would only hear the sad story of his losses and pains, which, while they are often the cause of learning, do not normally do anything to elucidate that learning for others. We are all of us very self-centered, all inclined to dote on our own suffering in the company of too much drink. I ate my cheese steak, which wasn't that good, and walked back up the hill with that food and the four beers in me. My head felt light in the rain, which I no longer minded, and I quickened my step to the motel.